


From the Ashes

by handsometabbyc



Category: Ghost Rider - Fandom, Phantom of the Paradise (1974)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-09-08 05:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8832718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/handsometabbyc/pseuds/handsometabbyc
Summary: In the aftermath of the paradise’s destruction, funerals are held, the ownership of ‘Death Records’ falls into new hands, and life goes back to reasonably normal.  That is until Phoenix gets approached by the Devil with the news that not only did she get tricked into selling her soul but Swan escaped from Hell. The devil fortunately is willing to make a deal, offering the opportunity of earning her soul back by becoming a fiery bounty hunter and returning Swan (and those like Swan) back to Hell where they belong.





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> Been sitting on this crossover idea for a while, thought I'd 'jolt it down and post it here.( I suppose making Mae West the devil pushes it over into crack!fic territory, but oh well, I had fun with it.)

 

 

“I’ll be in my dressing room if anyone needs me.” Phoenix told the band and crew before breaking off from the back stage to the corridor that lead to to the dressing rooms, thankful for a moment alone before the show. She was about to go in when a voice interrupted her.

“You managed to survive, I’m impressed.”

Phoenix looked up in shock. A woman wearing a heavily sequined red dress that shone out from the shadows before she stepped to reveal herself as a certain old Hollywood starlet that Phoenix recollected from her movies despite the fact she'd aged a good deal since then.

“Mae West… but what are you doing back here?” She looked over her shoulder for someone to confirm what she was seeing was real, but there was no one in sight.

“…Wait, what do you mean survive?” Phoenix said with a tinge of panic. Of all the way's she thought she'd go 'Slain by sliver screen icon' was not one of them.

“I suppose I should clarify myself, it’s been awhile: You’re the only one who got tangled in Swan’s little web who managed to get out alive.” She smiled looking off in the distance fondly, placing a hand withered by age with long red lacquered nails on her bosom. “Damn he was good at what he did but the evil son of a bitch had to get showy.”

“Sorry…Swan’s web?”

Mae West laughed, tusking in a condescending way. “Aw, you’re lucky your pretty honey.”

“No offense, but you're being a cryptic bitch Ms. West.” Phoenix spat out at her, turning red.

“Fair point, I am getting a bit ahead of myself. It’s a little stuffy in here isn’t?” She said lifting a hand and snapping her fingers.

“What?” Phoenix said before they disappeared in a puff of smoke and reappeared on what Phoenix could only assume was the theater roof, the sounds of the city at night filling her ears. It was the summer so thankfully it wasn’t too cold, but she still held herself protectively.

 “How’d you do that? Are you…”

“…the Devil?” The other woman finished for her with a smile.

“Something like that.” Phoenix said, bewildered expression on her face. “But you’re...you look like…”

“A woman? It’s 1975 hun. Be a little more open-minded.”

“I was going to say Mae West. It’s not exactly what I’d expect.”

“Oh, but it makes a strange kind of sense doesn’t it?” She said. “See, the thing is, I’m not technically really Mae West, I’m just using her body. As the devil I use human vessels to I find appropriate to suit my earthly needs from generation to generation.”

 “This is all very interesting but what do you want from me?” Phoenix said with a little frown.

“Silly me, rambling on.” she gushed. “I wanted to inform you of a predicament you may not be aware you’re in, which is understandable since Swan did tricked you."

“Tricked me into what?” Phoenix demanded.

“Swan and I had a little arrangement. I gave him eternal youth in exchange for his soul. He managed to figure out how to do the same and over the years made similar deals of his own, as he did with Winslow, then you.”

“Now that you mention it I vaguely remember him getting me to sign something, but that isn’t really fair. I didn’t know what was going on at the time after all.”

"That’s the point of the whole tricking thing sweetheart.” The Devil said, practically cooing as if she was talking to a child.

"Wait...but he died. Doesn't that void whatever contract I made with him?"

"Your not as dumb as I thought. But no, I'm afraid not. By striking up that contract you were signing over your soul to him. It, along with all his other little deals, made him powerful even in death. Which is why I'm coming to you."

“Why?” Phoenix asked cautiously.

“See, I’ve got a little predicament of my own. Swan managed to make himself powerful enough to evade my grasp and escape hell itself. I figured you could help me retrieve him, then we’d be square.”

“That’s all I would have to do?” She asked cautiously.

“...Well, that and a few other errands.” The devil added. “You may have been tricked but I'm not in the business of just giving people things."

“Look, I’m…flattered that you’re giving me this offer…I suppose, but I don’t understand why me in particular.”

“You have motive, vengeance on your side.” She said. “Because of what Swan did to you and how he fucked over your little songwriter friend.”

“…Winslow.” She said wistfully.

“Yes, at the very least you could do that for him.” She said, looking at her with a sympathetic little smile. “You might not have believed him in his hour of need, but at the very least you can avenge his sad little life, his memory, his death.”

“I don’t know. I guess that’d make it worth it, though I’m still not sure what you’re asking me to do.”

“I’m in need of a new bounty hunter.” She said bluntly. “Someone to drag fuckers like Swan back to Hell where they belong. I’d of course grant you the ability to achieve such a feat.”

“What kind of ability?” Phoenix said skeptically.

The Devil smiled gleefully, shrugging. “I guess you’ll have to find out. Though I’ll give you a hint: It’s very fitting of your name. So what do you say?”

“I have to decide now?” Phoenix said, taken aback.

“I’m doin’ you a favor pumpkin, I don't have time to let you fret over it.”

Phoenix thought back to everything that had happened, and how damn good to would be to get back at Swan.“…So I would defiantly get out of Swan’s contract? I’m not…I won’t be damned anymore?”

“After you fulfilling your end of the bargain, yes.” she said. “It isn’t the best scenario, but it’s the best I have to offer.”

Phoenix, thinking hard, nodded. “…Okay.” She said with determination. “I’ll do it. For Winslow.”

The devil grinned. “Wonderful,” she said, conjuring a pen and parchment. “Just sign on the bottom.”

“Do…I have to do it in blood?” Phoenix said reluctantly as she took them, and the Devil laughed at that.

“…Oh, that sort of thing is just for theatrics.” She dismissed with a little pout. "I made Swan do it because I was messing with him and he thought it was necessary after that."

 Phoenix shrugged helplessly, placed the contract on the nearest hard surface (a neglected patio table) and signed her name.

“So uh…when does this all happen?” She said as she handed the contract back.

“Not to worry, I’ll let you know when I need you. Until then…” The Devil snapped her fingers again and Phoenix found herself by her dressing room door again, alone.


	2. Memorial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jumping back a bit, because this was originally a novelty fic…but I actually have something of a plot for it now? so I thought I’d give it a bit of a foundation, especially since this is rooted from canon and we all know how messy the movie ended. (It’ll be back on track in a couple of chapters.)

**_A year before, Winslow’s Memorial Service_ **

A chaplain droned through a generic eulogy, standing close to a bouquet of flowers and a portrait of Winslow that had come from his senior yearbook. For some reason that affected Phoenix the most out of all of this, how young he actually had been. Granted he wasn’t just out of high school, this was just the picture the family submitted, but he wasn’t in his thirties or forties like phoenix had assumed. He was just in his twenties like herself.

She’d taken the liberties to make sure Winslow’s family had been invited and from what she heard a good number of them had come. There were also handful from the Death Record’s crowd, including Archie, who sat next to her squirming and muttering to himself.

She leaned in to whisper to him. “Would you stop?”

“I’m sorry, this is just making me really uncomfortable, given what happened with Beef. Especially as performer who was sharing the same stage as him at the time.”

“…You didn’t have to come you know, you’re the one who asked remember?” Phoenix said, beginning to regret agreeing to the offer.

“Hey, I know how hard you worked to pull off this little affair, and I insist on being here as moral support and I stand by that.” Phoenix gave him an incredulously look and he added, “…you know, as a friend.”

The last statement was a product of a conversation they’d had days earlier when Archie had expressed something of an interest. He seemed nice enough but after the fiasco with the Paradise she thought she’d take a break from dating for a while.

 “And with Winslow…it’s complicated.” Phoenix tried to explain, continuing to talk in a hushed voice. “He did a lot of wrong but he died a hard death. At the very least he deserves something. Besides, we’re finding more and more about the monstrous thing Swan did we’re still going to his funeral in…” She checked her watch. “Christ, two hours?”

"Well that's a publicity thing, we're obligated." He said with resentment and a touch of repulsion."Couldn't you have stopped that? Or a least made it so it wasn't... Televised? "

“What makes you think I could’ve stopped it? I was barely able to make them foot the bill for this.” Phoenix said dismissively. “That marriage wasn’t real. The lawyer’s checked, there wasn’t anything legal to it. It was really weird actually…”

 “Who is in charge now then?”

“A bunch of Nashville music folks, Swan apparently had family over there. He broke off some time ago to do his own thing.”

The end of the chaplain’s droning caught their attention. “If any of you would like to add few words your welcome to come up.”

An awkward silence feel over them, cut through by a reluctant, “Oh, what the heck.”

The owner of the voice, a middle aged man wearing a charcoal suit with a beard and gray streaks in his dark hair walked up the front. As he sauntered down the aisle determinately a good portion of the seated group murmured almost disapprovingly, and woman was clearly trying to tell him to stop. _Stop, no, sit down,_ She mouthed, but he ignored it.

The woman caught her eye and as she gestured helplessly Phoenix noted that she bore more than a passing resemblance to Winslow.

“Who’s that?” Archie asked confusedly

“I have no idea.” She answered with dismay.

 “Hello everyone, I’m Reverend O'Neil, Methodist pastor for over twenty years…and uncle of the deceased.”

 “Shit…” Muttered Phoenix, shrinking into herself a bit, understanding now why the woman hadn’t wanted the man to go up.

“What’s wrong?” Archie asked.

“When I was inviting Winslow’s family there might’ve been couple of them I was informed might cause trouble.”

“…I take it he was one of them?” He said winching a little, crossing his arms. “Well this’ll be interesting at least.”

Before phoenix could retort the reverend continued on.

 “…I’d like thank you all who came to this modest affair, especially from my own family. It’s …touching, to say the least, after everything that’s happened.  Despite everything the man did, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who felt the immense sorrow to learn exactly how he died based on the haunting statements made by some of the more courageous employees at Death Records.”

In her peripheral Phoenix could see a handful of people shaking their heads in agreement.

“…But of course this situation isn’t cut and dry. It’s messy and ugly, and I don’t think this is the time or place to dwell on that.”

The reverend paused a bit as he grappled for a thought. He spied a lone stool nearby, and pulled it to the front before sitting down, an act somehow both awkward and effortless.

 “…Over the years think a lot about when Winslow was a kid, he was always a little lost, always a little out of place. I believe it was when he was about eight, on a whim I thought I’d teach him a little about the piano.”

He smiled to himself. “…He took to that thing like you wouldn’t believe, it was like…he could finally breathe. Inevitably it got to the point he was better than me, and I had to enroll him in special classes.”

 The reverend paused to take a shaky breath before continuing. “A few years later…he had this big recital, I think it was when he was playing one of his first compositions, I’m not a hundred percent sure though. He was so nervous, and I remember him asking, ‘What if I don’t do well?” and I told him, ‘Number one, I know you’re going to do well, even if you slip up once or twice no one’s gonna notice. Number two…me and your family will be proud of you no matter what happens.’ ...of course he was brilliant, as I knew he’d be.”

 “…But I’m not talking about how well he did, what I’m getting to is the undeniable understanding in that moment. Afterwards he just gave me this great big hug and we talked for hours about it. Me and him never exactly saw eye to eye…but music was language we both understood."

“Now a lot of people might blame the music for this whole mess…but I don’t think that’s the case. I think it was a causality in the situation as much as anything else. Music was his heart and soul, it embodies the person I remembered before all this nonsense. Just like we all hold within us a part that no one or nothing can taint…”

“…At least I believe that, maybe just because I need to believe that part of the kid I remember lives on.” He nodded a little and muttered a choked up “that’ll be all, thank you,” before walking back to his seat.

There was a smattering of applause as the Reverend went to sit down, and Phoenix made a note to talk to him in person. She might’ve done it afterwards, but since a good number of people had as similar notion she figured it could wait.

\----------------

She didn’t have to wait long though, for she found him once again at the private reception that was being held before Swan’s public wake, filling a plate at the refreshment table.

“Excuse me…” She said tentatively.

“Yes, I know I’m not supposed to be here but believe it or not I was unwittingly dragged because I made the mistake of mentioning I was hungry so I thought, ‘might as well while I’m here’ and --“ He caught sight of Phoenix and chuckled nervously. “Ms. Phoenix, hello.”

“I just wanted to say that was a moving speech you made at Winslow’s memorial, I’m glad you came.”

“Well I’m grateful it was arranged in the first place. Our family had no idea how to approach the subject, especially given the fact this is technically the second time he died.”

“I have to admit I was a bit worried when I saw you walk to the front. No offense, I mean I thought you’d get…”

“Preachy?” He supplied with a little smile. “Believe me, you’re not the only one. Or as my sister says, that Winslow’s mother, I can get ‘bitchy’.”

“I think I saw her in there.” Phoenix said with a laugh. “I’m sorry to assume things myself--“

But she faltered when he waved his hand in the air for her to stop, his mouth full.

“Please, no need to apologize, I understand why you would assume.” He said when he could finally speak. “…Winslow wouldn’t want some old fart prattling on about Jesus in his eulogy, even if it came from me.”

“I have to ask, I couldn’t help but notice you talked about Winslow with a kind of familiarity, like he was a son rather than a nephew. I mean, maybe it’s just me but that seems a bit unusual.”

“Ah…” Reverend O'Neil said with a little wince. “I tried to avoid it, especially with my sister in the audience, but Winslow’s parents had some difficulties with him when he was very young, he was very moody. His father, who was a religious nut job, insisted that he was possessed by demons. So for whatever reason they decided staying with me for periods would help.”

“ _He_ was a religious nut job?” Phoenix said with amusement.

“Oh, I’m not the fire and brimstone, ‘save or burn’ type like he was, never have been. The man just made assumptions because of my credentials. I’m happy about it regardless, I’m glad for his sake they decided on that rather than other certain alternatives. Not to mention I cherish the time we got to spend together, it really is something I hold close to my heart.”

“You loved him a lot, didn’t you?” It was an awkward statement, but she didn’t really know how else to respond to that.

He laughed sadly, blinking up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. “I don’t know what happened…I wish he’d come to me at some point in all of this.”

 “You gave him a place of peace…at least for a little while.” Phoenix offered sympathetically. “…I don’t think that left him, even if he wasn’t completely aware of it. I think it’s like what you said when you were talking about his music, I could hear it in some of of his songs, the longing to get back to that place. Maybe he just didn’t know how.”

Tears were rolling rolled down the reverend’s cheeks now and he laughed embarrassedly. “Thank you, I needed to hear that.” He blubbered. He glanced over to see half a dozen dignified looking blond southern men and woman shooting looks over at him. They stood close to one another in a rather uniform way, giving off a strong ‘grown children of the damned’ vibe.

 “Christ, look at me, making a scene...” He muttered.

“Don’t pay them any mind, they’re just Swan’s brothers and sisters…” She assured him. “I think they’d be less upset about you being here anyway and more concerned you’re going to sue anyway for all the unethical things their brother did.”

He laughed a little. “Oh we’re suing, believe me, or something along those lines…at the very least so they think twice about doing anything close to that again.” He took a moment to collect himself, before rooting around in his blazer pocket for something.

 “I really should go anyway…but any time you want to talk,” He handed her a card for his church. “Any time alright? I basically live there.”

 


	3. Nightingale Records

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't think I was gonna be updating this anytime soon...but I just kept fiddling with it and it sorta happened.
> 
> Note: This chapter has been heavily edited since I originally posted, it occurred to me it might be a tad busy so I pared it down a good bit because I was concerned it might get confusing both for me and the reader. (fortunately I don't think too many people got the chance to read the first version anyway, so...there's that)

Phoenix didn’t hear much from the label after Swan’s funeral. 'We’ll call you,' swan’s former receptionist had said flatly when she asked what was going to happen to her, and a good indication her short lived career might be over.

Was it the memorial she’d insisted they have for Winslow? They had said it was a good idea, ‘Good for image’ the group of sharply dressed lawyers had agreed, which hadn’t included the new boss who’d be taking over, though she did get the chance to meet them briefly later.

She’d speculated with Archie that that honor would go to Swan’s kin, but apparently that wasn’t the case. Based on media coverage it was alluded the company would instead be helmed by a representative of an obscure corporation the corrupt mogul had connections to, culminating in a televised press conference.

Phoenix had been admittedly waiting by the phone when the announcement  about the company’s future came on, despite the fact she knew at this point they weren’t going to call back she still waited, like some strange form of grieving.

She’d like to say it was selfless but if she could admit it was more for the career she barely had rather than the dead. She didn’t really know Winslow or Beef so anything she felt towards him more ran along the lines of guilt. After a few weeks of sitting by the phone and flipping through channel’s something about that moment made here really ‘understand’ it was over.

The new bosses name was Lola Ramirez, a robust, buxomous Latina woman in her forties whose history was perplexing to say the least. The media certainly had a lot to say on the subject but most of it was contradictory at best: some claimed she was a former singer, others that she was a secret wife of the company’s late CEO, or even that she ran here own record label.

 “Death Records, a name we’ve felt was for the best to drop, has seen some dark twisted times which we wish to do what we can to amend, to…detach it from its previous owners more questionable decisions.”  Lola said on the television.

“…Of course this in no way means we wish to completely abandon Mr…” She paused to look at the page in front of her, “…Zebediah ‘Swan’ Gale’s vision, merely alter it slightly to communicate our disapproval. In that regard we feel the new name, ‘Nightingale’ records embodies the labels old spirit but not the negativity.” She added reassuringly. "Like a bird in the night, ready for a new da-” Lola continued dreamily in her high overly feminine voice, at which point Phoenix shut off the television in exasperation.

On that note she started hunting for her purse, remembering the “help wanted” in a nearby café window. It had been fun while it lasted, but it was clear she was included in what the people who took over considered ‘questionable decisions.’

Well, perhaps ‘fun’ wasn’t the right word…exciting maybe? Waiting tables wasn’t exactly exciting, but at least you didn’t have to worry about your boss turning a blind eye on someone killing your co-workers…then turning around and put a hit you…

But damn if she didn’t miss singing, part of her wished she didn’t have to know how it felt to sing in front of a crowd.

Though the fact that it was short lived turned out to be a blessing, perhaps if it hadn’t she would’ve gotten her own place and her roommate wouldn’t have been there to receive the call.

“Phoenix, there’s a call for you.” One of the other waitresses called out amidst the chaos of the lunch time rush.

“Can you take a message Renee? I’m a little busy.”

“It’s some record label, what…nightbird records did you say?”  Renee asked the other end of the line, but didn’t get an answer before Phoenix made a beeline for the phone.

“This is she, I-I mean this is Phoenix.” Phoenix managed, knowing she sounded ridiculous but no really caring. She was going back, maybe it was temporary, maybe it was something small, but at this point she’d settle for anything.

\---

Despite the fact Phoenix had been fairly familiar with the Death Record's building (or 'Nightingale Records' as it was called now), upon returning it didn't take her long to get lost in the building's twisted halls in attempt to get to the meeting she'd been told to come to over the phone. Somehow everything looked so different, which made no sense since it hadn’t even been a month yet.

Was she even on the right floor?

A framed poster lauding the paradise’s opening night caught her attention and she stared at it with a little frown.

“Rather macabre isn’t it?” Phoenix started at the voice, and turned to see one of the men she recognize as one of the company lawyers, a stern wiry looking fellow who wore a beard that did little to conceal his shrew like face.

“I…I guess.” Phoenix agreed. “Why have it up then?"

“He who fails to remember the past is doomed to repeat it.” the man droned, annoyance dripping with every word. “You shouldn’t be on this floor Ms. Phoenix.”

“I figured as much, I guess I must’ve gotten off at the wrong place…somehow.”

“Somehow.” He parroted back with disbelief.

“I’m sorry, I just got lost.” She insisted. “Everything looks so different.”

“Very well, I’ll show to the elevator.” He said. “Just make sure you get off one the third floor, and don’t ‘accidentally’ end back up here.”

“If you don’t want just anyone coming here, why not make it so they can’t?”

He narrowed his eyes in annoyance when they got to the elevator, viciously punching the down button.

 “…You best watch yourself you hear? Your only here on trial run.” He called out as the doors closed.

"Honestly I didn’t expect to be back here at all.” Phoenix said frustratedly to herself. "What the hell..."

“Don’t mind him.” A chipper voice said from the corner of the elevator. Phoenix looked back and saw it was the company’s new boss, wearing an almost too flattering grey skirt suit paired with a frilly white blouse and a smile as bright as the sun.

"Mrs. Ramirez! I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh please hun, just call me Lola.” She cooed, a hand going to her bosom. “And as I said, you shouldn’t let Mr. Silverstein get to you, he’s more bark than bite.”

“Isn’t he a lawyer?” phoenix said skeptically.

“Okay, maybe a little bit of a bite.” Lola relented gleefully. “I suppose that’s only appropriate since it is his job, but I wouldn’t be too worried, you’ve got people on your side here.”

“So uh…you got some top secret stuff on the fifth floor?” Phoenix joked, though apparently it was the wrong thing to say because Lola’s cheerful demeanor faltered a bit.

“I don’t know how you got up there, maybe your finger slipped and you pressed one of the unlisted buttons…no harm done, were still working out the kinks…for your own good I’d suggest staying away from the fifth floor.”

The elevator chimed and Lola bustled off immediately.

“Wait, what do you mean how I got there…” She looked at the key pad and saw there was in fact no fifth floor listed, but instead a collection of unmarked buttons she very easily could’ve pushed. She frowned a bit before rushing out to catch up with Lola, but the woman was nowhere in sight.

It occurred to Phoenix it might’ve not been the best idea to come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Carlotta

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about not counting Carlotta as an OC, but really she's more named after the character in POTO then...you know, *being* her.

She’d come to wish Lola hadn’t disappeared as fast as she had, because she got lost again in no time flat again. Third floor, fifth floor, they both looked the same: unfamiliar badly lit halls that had been remodeled since she’d last been here.

She hadn’t noticed at first, she’d been in too much of a panic, but in the short time she’s been gone things had been overhauled, no doubt designed by some imbalanced hotshot interior designer who specialized in the abstract.

She sighed, pausing a moment to collect herself, only to pass the same Juicy Fruit poster for the fourth time.

“Sonsa’ bitches!” She growled, sharply hitting the glass with an open palm before walking away from it, rubbing her temples.

She froze when it omitted creaking sound escalating into a crash, her face contorting in horror, not just because of it falling but because Archie was standing right there, and from his expression he’d seen the whole thing.

He laughed in nervous amusement. “…Wow.”

“Don’t take that personally.” She said sheepishly. “I got lost and I guess… I guess I took it out on an innocent poster.”

“Hey it’s alright.” He said, walking over to carefully lift the picture off the ground, leaning it against the wall. “Anyway I think Harold got the full brunt of the damaged.” He said, referring to the web of cracks that ran through one section of the glass pane. The hall was carpeted but on its way down the picture has hit a tall gold statue of a sphinx cat that was conveniently near.

“…And I wouldn’t say it’s so innocent, I never particularly liked how I looked in it.”

She laughed at that, rolling her eyes. “Stop, you’re awful.”

“Yeah, well…” He muttered with a shrug.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

“In this hall? Looking for you actually, the others were wondering where you were. And I was like: Hey, she probably got lost you know what I’m sayin’?’ So they was all ‘then you go and find her’ so…” He gestured helplessly. “Shows me for speaking up.”

“How’d you figure I got lost?” She asked as they took a turn she hadn’t noticed before.

“Almost everybody gets lost, it’s like some kook turned the whole building into some big optical illusion.”

“I was actually guessing something around those lines myself.” Phoenix said with amusement.

Good news is: once you get through it’s not so confusing. First time I came to sign all the usual paper work drudgery: hopelessly lost. But never had a problem with it again after that day.”

“That’s a little funny, I was just with Mrs. Ramirez and she sorta…bailed on me.”

“Why is that funny?” Archie said, brow furrowing, though there was a hint of anxiety in his eyes. “Maybe she had somewhere to go. Busy woman and all.”

“…I mean she must’ve had some idea it might happen, in hindsight it almost seems intentional and she seemed… nicer then that.”

Archie looked uneasy now. “See, I think you might’ve made the mistake of confusing nice with friendly. And from what I hear Ramirez…she didn’t get where she got by being nice.”

“What do you mean?” She said, in a hushed voice.

He winced a little, stepping closer. “You didn’t hear it from me, but apparently she used to run a Latin American music label with her half-brother. The label got into hot water, maybe a scandal, or perhaps money troubles, I’m not sure: but whatever it was she threw the poor schmuck under the bus and bailed ship…Or at least, that’s what I hear. The new manager, Salvador, insists otherwise but I think it’s just because he’s her right hand man. Sorta like Philbin was to Swan.”

 “Oh...Right.” she said trying unsuccessfully to hide the disbelief from her voice. The entire thing sounded a little far fetched.

“…Believe me or no, I believe we’re getting away from the fact I was getting at: people here don’t like you, I’m a little surprised your even back. I am glad though.” He quickly added.

“They said something about calling me in to see ‘how I meshed with stone’ whatever that means…”

He laughed at that. “Holy shit, may you rest in peace, you are screwed.” He said, pushing through a pair of doors that lead to a large lounge area.

“What? Why?” She called after him. As she followed him inside she was immediately met with bickering between two fairly tall individuals: a biker chick with long curly hair pulled back in a ponytail and a spindly looking fellow dressed something like a cowboy.

“-It’s been twenty god damn minutes what do you mean she isn’t here?”

“I mean she just isn’t here yet, calm down.” He reassured her in a thick but understandable Spanish accent.

“I was promised she’d be here,” She snapped fiercely. “I refuse to calm down in the face of other people not taking responsibility because that is some grade a bull-”

 “Hey I uh…” Archie spoke up, gesturing towards phoenix. “I found her, we can all cool our tits now.”

“Holy--” Muttered Phoenix. “That’s who they meant by Stone?”

“I know, she’s a piece of work right?” Archie muttered back.

“Christ, that’s not what I meant…” She said, pushing past him.

“Your Carlotta Stone correct?” Phoenix said with amazement as she strode closer. “As in the guitarist for the all-girl band ‘Glory Glory’?

Carlotta turned from the man who Phoenix assumed was Salvador and grinned. “That would be me.”

“She’s also the one who broke them up.” The man in the southern wear said with a dismissive tone, Phoenix looked at him with disbelief and he grinned, interpreting the moment as one to introduce himself. “I don’t believe we’ve met, Ernesto Salvador.”

“Uh…Pleasure.” She said, slightly dazed, turning her attention back to Carlotta. “About Glory Glory breaking up, I’ve actually heard it was more of a band wide thing, creative differences…” Phoenix started, which Carlotta waved in away.

“He’s right, it was kinda my fault.” She admitted with a little shrug. “Momma’s got a bit of an anger issue, I was just looking out for number one. Didn’t have the team’s best interest in mind, but that's all changed. So when the folks were talking about passing on you just because you were tainted goods I spoke up and said, 'I think you’d be a fool to let that one go.'"

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t go as far as to throw around the word tainted.” Harold said. While they were talking him and the other members of the group formally known as the Juicy Fruits had formed their usual knot.

“…And I have to say, I don’t think I like the implications.” Archie said defensively.

“Yes well I didn’t hear that specifically but maybe I'm reading between the lines, don’t interrupt me.” She huffed, and as she brushed a stray curl out of her face. As she did Phoenix noted she had noticeably muscular arms. Aside the fact she was black, it wasn’t hard to see why she’d been chosen as what one could call Beef’s replacement, she had a similar heavy, almost demanding presence.

My point is I was tellin' the folks who brought me in that you were too talented to be dumped like last week’s take-out, and hey, eventually they caved!” She said brightly, whopping Phoenix playfully on the shoulder.

“Just like that…” Phoenix said with disbelief. “…So you’re the reason I’m back then?”

“…Well, between you and me I do believe they might’ve been humoring me, but you give me an inch I take a mile, you know? You can’t budge this Stone.” She said proudly, before faltering a bit. “…And not in a bad way this time I mean. I was telling the new boss we could add a sorta ‘leather and lace’ spin on the whole tough guy metal thing the old boss had going--"

As she went on Phoenix shot Archie a little grin which he responded to with a thumbs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! It's worth noting this the last introductory chapter, so after this I'm finally, *finally* going to get back into the ghostrider stuff. (I'm definitely psyched about it)


	5. Rumors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe it took me five chapters, but I finally got to the 'Ghost rider' stuff.  
> (Also just a heads up: this chapter includes passing internalized homophobia)

**Present Day**

Phoenix blinked rapidly, standing by the door of her dressing room in stunned confusion, before slipping inside, lowering herself down onto the loveseat that was adjacent to the vanity her and Carlotta had only just been getting ready at an hour ago.

She gingerly touched her chest, remembering what she’s been told. How could someone exist without a soul? How did that even work? Was she a monster?

The door burst open and Carlotta pranced in, scatting happily to herself, flouncing her great mane of curls to and fro, and Phoenix couldn’t help but smile a bit at the sight.

After Phoenix came back to the record label formally known as death records, her and Carlotta formed a duo that went by the moniker of ‘Spirit,’ most likely because the higher ups thought ‘Spirit and the Undeads’ had a nice ring to it, and they’d gone from there.

She never thought she’d get to the point where this would feel normal: traveling from gig to gig, the dressing and hotel rooms, the crowds and the bone deep exhaustion…not to mention Carlotta, who she never imagined she’d ever get to know as something other then a two dimensional rock star, confined to the boundaries of paper and vinyl.

 “Did you feel the energy in that crowd tonight? Sometimes it’s not there, but this time we just…” She snapped her fingers in time to an imaginary beat while she grooved in place. “…Clicked, you know what I mean?”

“You do always say it’s the crowd’s fault, not yours.” Phoenix commented with tired amusement.

“Yeah, especially when the crowd isn’t doing what it’s supposed to.”  Carlotta said, sounding a little wounded her enthusiasm wasn’t shared, but also a little concerned. “Are you alright? You look a little green around the gills.” She said as she sat down next to Phoenix.

“I…I don’t really know. Did you see an older blond lady in a red sequined gown out there?”

“…I didn’t, no.” Carlotta said with a little frown. “I mean, I’d hope not, that would mean we’ve got ourselves some confused old rich lady wondering around.”

“Oh…then no, maybe I’m not alright.” She said laughing painfully to herself. “I don’t know, maybe somebody slipped something into my water or something, that’s the only reasonable explanation…”

“It was Salvador wasn’t it?” Carlotta replied with determination, shooting back up on her feet. “I’m gonna find him and I’m gonna tear him a new one!”

“Carlotta, Carlotta, no…” Phoenix begged, gently reaching for her arm. "Whatever it is I'm sure it isn't going to amount to much. Please, just stay with me.”

She huffed, sitting back down. “Alright, but I’m keeping my eye on him.”

Phoenix laughed a bit at that. “Thanks, I guess.”

“I have to say, you have a boring drug trip.” Carlotta added after a moment. “Weird aging debutantes, just wandering around…”

“There was more to it than that.” Phoenix said defensively. “She was the Devil see…but she looked like Mae West, you know from the forties? But…how she looks now. Older I mean.”

“Yeah, I know what you’re talking about, I had the misfortune of seeing the film Myra Breckinridge .” Carlotta said as she made a face. “I don’t recommend it by the way. So, what did she want? I mean I’m sure she wasn’t showing up just for kicks.”

Phoenix sighed helplessly. “It wasn’t so much what she wanted it was more what she was…giving.”

 “Carlotta scoffed in disbelief. “Well whatever it was I hope you didn’t take it.”

“Why does that matter? It wasn’t like it was real.”

Carlotta shrugged. “I dunno hun, maybe it wasn’t but I wouldn’t chance it.” She lifted her hands in in a defensive gesture. “I’m not saying I believe in that crap, but based on some of the rumors I’ve heard surrounding the company, especially involving the old guy in charge, you can’t be too careful.” Carlotta looked at her with concern. “…You did say no right?”

“Oh…of course I said no.” Phoenix lied. “She was offering some bullshit anyway.”

“What was it? Money? Love?”

“…Redemption.” Phoenix said, speaking as if it was the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“Redemption?” She said. “Are you referring to that whole mess that happened before?”

“Something like that.” Phoenix said with a shrug.

Carlotta sighed uncomfortably. “…None of that was your fault. Just two dudes getting caught up in their little feud. And don’t tell me it wasn’t that composer fella’s fault neither, at a certain point he could’ve stopped.”

“You’ve been reading up.”

“Course I read up, the guy whose job I took over was on all accounts murdered. Again, I cannot emphasis how much I don’t believe in curses and the supernatural, but on the off chance this job is cursed you better believe I’m going to at least try to be prepared for it.”

“The job isn’t cursed.” Phoenix dismissed. “And…I don’t know, I could’ve tried to stop it at one point.”

“…It’s not really my place to say, but I doubt there was much you could’ve done.” Carlotta criticized. “Don’t get lost in the past hun, I need you here, you’re my good luck charm. We make a good team after all, don’t we? I told everyone, but they didn’t believe me.”

“I can’t help but wonder why though.” Phoenix asked. “I mean, you could’ve been a star all on your own.”

Carlotta shrugged. “…There was too many dudes around, I needed more feminine energy.” She said, though looked uncomfortable. “I thought you were talented. The rumors aren’t true, I ain’t no dyke.”

“Oh that isn’t what I meant…” Phoenix said quickly with an apologetic smile. “I sorta thought everyone was messing with me, I still don’t know if I’m entirely convinced that isn’t the case.”

“Well the company loves me, so since I want you here I assure you you aren’t being messed with.”

“…Why does the company like you so much?” Phoenix asked. “I mean…no offense but you were kinda a mess a few years ago, especially concerning Glory Glory.”

“Oh really?” Carlotta said with amusement. “What happened to that not being my fault?”

“I was a fan and you were my favorite.” Phoenix admitted.

“Fair enough…and as far as this job is concerned I might be Ms. Lola’s niece.” She said in a low voice. “Not that she’s doing any favors. I mean she technically is, but she did hire me for my talent.”

"I wasn't aware you two were related." Phoenix said with surprise. "I mean, I can see the resemblance, but you never-"

"Mention it?" Carlotta said with a shrug. "She has an interesting history and people are inclined to be nosy Nancy's when they learn we're related. So I'd prefer to keep it on the down low if you get my drift."

"Oh, I I won't say anything." She said sincerely.

“It’s alright, I'm sure you  won't. My bigger concern, if I may circle back to it, is this ‘were’ business of me being you’re favorite.”

 “Well, it’s a little different now that I've gotten to know you…” Phoenix teased and Carlotta laughed, pushing her a little as Phoenix broke out into a giggle.

“But no I meant that in hindsight, I still think you’re pretty great…better in some ways really.” Phoenix said as her laughter died down, suddenly hyper aware of how close the other woman was, and by the look on Carlotta’s face it looked like she was too.

“I-I need to get some air.” Phoenix said, almost apologetically, pulling away and standing up as Carlotta took a breath as if she’d been holding it, sitting up a little.

“Yeah, cool…” She answered as she looked away from Phoenix, but before she did Phoenix caught a glimpse of something she could swear looked like rejection.

As she strode away she ignored the feeling of guilt and want that clawed at her gut.

_The rumors aren’t true, I ain’t no dyke._

She was aware of rumors she was referring to, Glory Glory was infamously known as a ‘gay' band  thanks to the open secret about a couple of their members, though that hadn’t included Carlotta, who dated one of their male roadies while the band was together.

But there was a tell-tale defensiveness to the statement that made Phoenix think otherwise.

 _Not that it mattered or she cared_ , she thought firmly to herself. She wasn’t of that persuasion herself, she liked men too after all.

She burst through the back doors into the back ally, embraced by the chilly night air and the distant sounds of the Los Angeles at night.

Sighing she leaned again the cinder-block wall, moving to the pocket where she usually kept her cigarette’s and lighter, but then remembered they were in her purse, back in here dressing room with her normal clothes which she’d yet to change into after the show.

Thankfully that later fact wasn’t too compromising as her stage outfit hadn’t been too risqué, in fact aside from being black it was a lot like the dress she’d worn on that fateful night Beef had died and she had to sing in his place. It did leave her out here without a smoke though, which she could use right about now after that train wreck of a situation…

As she was wondering if she ought to just go back she heard a woman's scream from around the corner, jarring her from her thoughts. Before she knew what she was doing she started running toward the noise. A man with a purse clutched to his chest rounded the corner and was running in her direction. As he passed she reached for his arm, the motion sending them both spiraling for a moment until she let go, sending him crashing against the wall at a surprising speed.

Did she do that? The better question was why she did that in the first place.

As she approached the man to retrieve the purse there was a look of terror on his face, one Phoenix had never received in her entire life.

He threw the purse toward her feet, and tried to stumble away, begging some incoherent plea. Phoenix reached for the purse, only to get a glimpse of her hand, and judging by the way it looked the man’s reaction was understandable.

She didn’t have much time to contemplate it when a bolt of searing white pain ran through her and she let out a scream. It didn’t sound like how she’d normally scream, but something that sounded guttural, deeper, more primal.

She’d knelt down to the ground, hunched over with the pain, but as it ebbed away and she gained awareness all she could see were flames. Standing up in panic the wall of flames slipped into her peripheral.

 _Wings_ , she realized with both fear and amazement.

At the moment the woman who’d had her purse stolen came around the corner with a couple of police men in tow. Phoenix, who’d only been starting to grasp her situation, realized how it might look to others.

The police man called after her, and she started to run, vaguely aware of the sound of a gun, and as if on instinct she spread her wings, and in several strides she felt herself lifted off the pavement, away from the buildings and into the sky.

As she rose above the city the awareness of how conspicuous she looked grew on her and she set her sights on the desert beyond it, and made a beeline toward it.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank's for reading, if you like please kudo! (also I love feedback, especially if I messed something up)


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